


An Amalgamation of Parts

by LittlexWing



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 7,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlexWing/pseuds/LittlexWing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various interactions between Klaus and Bonnie. Some shippy, some not. 30 prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Evidence

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from tumblr.

**001.**

    Twenty minutes. She has to take twenty extra minutes in her morning routine to devote to covering up all the marks Klaus leaves behind. And of course, he’s well on his way back to New Orleans by now (after staying the weekend, naturally) so she can’t yell at him unless she calls him on the phone and even then he’d just laugh at her and promise worse. **  
**

    The ones on her hips and thighs (and breasts and _arms_ and _lower back, really Klaus?_ ) aren’t so bad. She can hide those away with long pants and a solid shirt. But this giving her hickies business around the neck area is just asking for her weekend activities to be exposed. Especially when she practically lives in the company of vampires.


	2. Strawberries

**    002. **

    Human food doesn’t mean very much to vampires all in all; Klaus included. So she figures, she doesn’t have much to worry about when she gets set to try out one of her grandmother’s dessert recipes.   


    She figured wrong.

    Her little crate of strawberries is getting lighter and lighter because the hybrid keeps following her around the kitchen and eating them. At first she’s subtle about keeping them away from him; moving them from her right side to her left. But he just follows it and pops one more red fruit into his mouth.   


    “ Stop _hunting_ my ingredients,” she says as she body-blocks him yet again. “ Don’t you have a canvas to make? Paint to mix? _Someone_ to terrorize? Get out of my kitchen.”

    All he does is reach over her and snag another berry. “ Fine thing. A man travels nearly cross-country to be with the woman he loves, and she can’t wait to be rid of him.”


	3. Remorseful

**003.**

    It’s not that she doesn’t feel guilty. She does. Just not guilty enough to stop herself. Stop him. Not every time. Sometimes she fights the urge off, burns his clothing, burns **him** because what’s happening between them is **_not right_**.   


    He takes it and comes for her again anyway. She loads as much poison into her words as possible and he laughs in her face. He knows her anger is hollow and her inconsistency is a chink in her armor he can widen, and _widen_ and _**w i d e n.**_ It’s only a matter of time before she gives in and they both know it.   


    “ You want me, love, and you can’t **stand** it.”


	4. Prowl

**004.**

    “ Look, I’m sorry for throwing you down the stairs–but in my defense, **you** shouldn’t be prowling around the house at night with no lights on! You don’t make noise when you walk and I don’t have night vision and _really_ , this is your own fault!”


	5. Compromise

**005.**   


     It’s a simple deal really. Practically the foundation of their relationship.

     No heavily scented candles in the house, and no dead bodies.  


     “ Sod the bodies,” Klaus says as he makes a federal case out of a tealight candle. A _tealight_ candle. “ At least those are _natural_. Get rid of these bloody candles and their wretched stench. I’ve been to Ireland and its countryside, love, and I can **assure** you that it does not smell like _this_.”

     He’s equally offended by Tahitian sunrise. 


	6. Hush

**006.**

    For being as old as he is, Klaus sure acts like a brat sometimes. 

    In hindsight though, she supposes it _is_ her fault. She knew he was like that when she met him. She knew he was like that when she let him into her bed. She should know he’s _still_ like that now when she’s trying to keep him a secret from her friends who‘ve been constantly calling her over her refusal to spend time with them this weekend.

    She commits two cardinal sins in answering the phone. The first: taking her attention off Klaus. Where it should be, in his opinion, and _stay_. The second: telling him to be quiet while she does it.

    Klaus Mikaelson will **not** be silenced, thank you _very_ much.

    Of course, anyone who crosses him has to pay. They must suffer accordingly. He’d never hurt Bonnie but this transgression can’t go unpunished.   


    And so he takes his retribution accordingly, by wedging himself between her legs and making it hard for her to talk. Let her _be quiet_ now.   


    Bonnie realizes too late what’s about to happen, and she isn’t strong enough to shove him off or away. His mouth is the worst weapon he has and as soon as he starts using it, she’s lost all concentration to use her magic to fling him somewhere. One or two passes of stubble against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and she loses the want to do so anyway.

    “ God I hate you,” she says while muffling the phone and seriously considering just throwing it away. “ I hate you so much.”

    “ Shhhh.” He has the _audacity_ to shush her. “ Wouldn’t want Elena to find out about you being in such a compromising position, now would we?”

    What’s worse, is that after she’s assured her friends that the reason she sounds so out of breath is that she’s been exercising (and that is the only reason _ever_ ), he stops.

    He just fucking **stops**.

    Why? Why does he stop?

    Because now **he** has a phone call to make and he’s a bastard, that’s why.


	7. Morals

**007.**

    She’s used to Klaus mocking her when she’s in his presence. When he’s threatening everyone she loves and has ever met for _whatever_ he wants her to do this time. She just ignores him. Or tries to as best she can. He has a heavy supernatural presence. He’s damn near oppressive just being nearby. But she’s getting better at it. It helps to practice on Damon; who has less of a presence, but is just as annoying.

    She’s determined to keep her eyes on the ground, on the sigil that’s waiting for the moonlight to hit it just right. While Klaus prowls around her, circling her like prey.   


    “ Moral, righteous, _unsinkable_ Bonnie Bennett…” He drawls. “ Do you even know half of the people you’re trying to save in this pit of a small town? Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. You can’t help yourself from trying to save everyone, can you love? Can’t seem to stop yourself from doing the right thing.”

    “ Just like you can’t seem to stop yourself from doing anything _but_.” She fires right back.

    He only chuckles and grins down at her for her barb. “ I assume since you attend a public school, your religious education is rather limited. Allow me to expand your knowledge. Do you know what the requirements are for sainthood?”

    If he expects an answer he isn’t going to get one. Not that it slows him down any, he just keeps talking without her.

    “ First, there’s leading a life in heroic virtue. And there’s none more virtuous than _you_ , love. Dear, sweet, _virgin_ Bonnie. Though it’s not really fair to you that you’re held to a higher standard than practically everyone around you, is it? Why must you always be the bastion of moral integrity when no one around you does the same?”

    She scowls at the sigil. She doesn’t want his words reverberating inside her. She’s trying to ignore how true they ring.   


    “ Second, two miracles postmortem. You were **dead** after our meeting at the school, Bonnie. So well done there. And not only did you return to life, you nearly took mine after the fact. Well done _indeed_. Miracles one and two, if you ask me.”

    “ Good thing no one’s asking you.”

    This time he’s the one that ignores her. “ And finally, **martyrdom**.”   


    She doesn’t like the emphasis he puts on that word. She really doesn’t like it when he stops in front of her and crouches down into her field of vision. Even when she turns her head away, he won’t leave her in peace. His hand reaches out to tuck hair behind her ear and she wants to burn him to ashes then burn those too.

    “ Tell me Saint Bonnie, how many times have you been made a martyr by your friends?”

    She shouldn’t say anything, but he’s made her so angry, she can’t hold her tongue. “ I do what I **do** because I–”

    “ –because you _have_ to? Because it’s right? Because you’re _moved_ by the love you feel for your friends? Of course you are, love. You’ll answer anyone that prays to you. I expect nothing less from the patron saint of Mystic Falls, vampires, doppelgängers and lost causes.”


	8. Voice

**008.**

    This is quickly becoming her favorite pastime.   


    She has to catch him just right. He must be busy doing something, reading, painting, looking up information, texting, anything to occupy his attention so he doesn’t think, he just answers.

    “ Klaus,” she calls while he’s reading something in archaic French that would only be interesting to him, and maybe two other living people on the planet.

    The hybrid grunts automatically, but doesn’t look up from what he’s doing. 

    “ Say ‘aluminum’.”

    “ _Alu **min** ium_.”   
****

    Her giggling gives her away. She has to be smarter about it once he realizes what she’s doing. It doesn’t work to just ask him to say words anymore, she has to sort of segue into it.   


    She innocently asks, “ what’s the word for when you want to be left alone?”   


    “ Murder.” And she should have seen that coming, frankly.  


    “ **No** , _Klaus_. It starts with a P or something.”

    “ _**Priv** acy_.” **** A second after he’s said it, he knows just what she’s laughing at. “ Are you quite finished mocking my manner of speech?”

    “ I will be if you say ‘herb’.”

    “ **No**.” He’s trying to be authoritative, but really, it just comes out petulant.  


    “ Oh c’mon, it’s so cute! You pronounce the ‘h’ and everything!”

    “ I pronounce the ‘h’ because there’s a bloody ‘h’ **in it** to be pronounced! ” **  
**


	9. Awkward

**009.  
**

    Awkward. _Adjective._  


  1. causing difficulty; hard to do or deal with.
  2. causing or feeling embarrassment or inconvenience.
  3. not smooth or graceful; ungainly.
  4. uncomfortable or abnormal.



    Google has four definitions for the word and every single one of them applies to sitting at the kitchen table with her vampire mother on one side and her hybrid boyfriend on the other.

    So far they’ve both been silent. Abby’s radiating disapproval and hatred. Klaus is basking in it. Maybe one of them will just _leave_ on their own and it won’t get worse. Her luck can’t be _that_ bad, right?

    “ Are you having sex with my daughter, Klaus?”

    “ _Daily_.”

    She was wrong. It got worse. “ Oh my God. Abby, you can’t ask that, you can’t just–show up here and _mom_ me! And _you_ , hybrid, you can’t _say_ that!”

    “ Too true,” the hybrid hums. “ It’s closer to hourly. It _was_ closer to hourly anyway before _you_ showed up unannounced, love, so if you would be _so_ kind as to do what you do best and **_disappear_ ** we could get back to that.”

    Google found a word to describe all this. Maybe it can find a hybrid sized muzzle.


	10. Shield

**010.**

****     Klaus surely expects a certain result for this spell he’s having her cast. Something of his mother’s that he’s trying to do or undo. She’s not for sure and he isn’t either as the end of the spell is missing. But he assures her it’s nothing but quote unquote “pomp and circumstance.”

    Well “pomp and circumstance” probably had something to do with properly containing the magical backlash from the spell. The same backlash that brings parts of the second floor and roof of his home down on top of them. That’s what happens when it explodes _up_ , and not _out_ like it was probably supposed to.  


    It happens too fast for her human reflexes to do anything. She doesn’t even have time to be super unimpressed that this will be what kills her. Klaus has much better reflexes, of course. He doesn’t have to think to rush them both out of the room and cover her body with his own.   


    Good thing too. Once the dust settles and he moves, she can see a sizable piece of wood sticking into his side. It’s very prominent when he stands up and lets out a noise of pure fury. That could have been her impaled like that.   


    She doesn’t want that fury turned on her. But that oversized splinter surely won’t improve his mood any either. “ You … have a …”   


    He doesn’t even stop growling or kicking debris out of his way when he removes the offending piece of floorboard. It doesn’t slow down his ranting about his traitorous mother in the slightest. No, he makes very clear his intention of  _setting a trap_ and _how dare she_ and _he’ll skin her, have her healed and skin her **all over again**_ and _witches are always a pain in the ass (no offense, love, it’s only cute when **you**  do it) _and so on and so forth.

    She wisely keeps the ‘I told you so’ to herself.


	11. Journey

**011.**

    He asks her where she wants to go.   


    “ I don’t know… I need to go to the grocery store later. Out of milk.”  


    His mistake was asking her where she wanted to go right after she woke up. Her sleepy human mind does not grasp the gravity of the question he’s asking. But he’s been impatiently waiting for her to rouse herself for them to have this conversation and he can’t wait anymore. “ Let’s try that again, love. Where do you want to go _in the world_?”

    “ I don’t know,” she answers again and ruffles her hair into some semblance of tame.

    “ _Think_.”

    He’s adamant. First thing in the morning too, this must be serious. So she thinks. “ France?”

    “ _France_ ,” he mocks and rolls his eyes. “ Every teenage girl wants to see _France_. You’ve practically been conditioned by bad romance novels and even worse romantic movies. Sod the French, you can do better than that.”

    “ Is there an answer I’m supposed to give here? I can’t handle pop quizzes before noon.”  


    “ Yes,” he says while hauling her on top of him. “ You’re supposed to say ‘anywhere except Mystic Falls’… _and France.”_


	12. Defiant

**012.**

    Even when she comes willingly, it’s not _willingly._  

    She’s caught between her morals and a hard place and knows what she must do to ensure the safety of her loved ones. He’ll kill them, she knows he will.   


    And yet…

    “ I **have** to cast this spell, but I **don’t** have to talk to you. I certainly **don’t** have to _like_ you. And I **refuse** to be your entertainment.”   


    She’ll take any chance, however small, to rebel against him.  


	13. Decent

**013.**

   Bonnie Bennett has a very clear idea of right and wrong.

    Good and Evil.

    Bonnie is good. Klaus is evil.

    She _does_ good. He does _evil_.

    She is incapable of evil. He is incapable of good.

    And so, when, seemingly out of the blue, Klaus does something decidedly non-evil (and with no obvious benefit to himself), her whole system crashes.

    One of her wayward ancestors had been summoned and taken over her body yet again. Caused a good bit of trouble, so she’s been told. Though none top her attempts to seduce Klaus into helping her avoid exorcism.   


    She comes to on the floor, covered in what she recognizes as Klaus’ coat. Thankfully so, because just under it is some rather racy lingerie she’s positive she never bought herself. 

    Across the room and with his back turned to her sits the hybrid. Who assures her that her virtue is still intact and her friends are on their way to retrieve her. 

   Just how is she to process _this_?

    She wants to know why he betrayed her ancestor. Not only was he promised a new playmate (if the lingerie is anything to go by, like seriously) but his own loyal Bennett witch.

    Klaus chuckles as he turns a page in whatever he’s reading over there. “ The position’s been filled, love. I already have a Bennett witch, and I don’t take kindly to anyone meddling in my affairs, or with **my** witch.”


	14. Strength

**014\. Strength**

   Newton must have some kind of law for this. Something like the amount of force a woman can exert increases in proportion to how pissed off she is; no matter the kind of body she’s exerting this force on.    


    Bonnie may look small, but she’s certainly not weak. He can attest to that as every swat she gives him for whatever he’s done to annoy her _this time_ actually hurts. Not much, mind you. But, you know, it stings a good bit. He’s seen lesser vampires (i.e. Damon) flee from such an assault. Now he knows why.


	15. Sweeten

**015.**

    “ Drink.”

    Bonnie is not at all in a hurry to follow Klaus’ command. Not only does she not know what he’s put in front of her, it _smells_ god-awful. And it’s doing nothing to help her exhaustion-born migraine. Frankly, she doesn’t know how he can stand to be so close to it. His nose is better than hers. “ What _is_ this?”

    “ This,” he says while gesturing to the mug, “ _concoction_ is of my mother’s creation. Something she used to lessen the effects of magical exhaustion; which you’re undoubtedly suffering from now.”

    “ Small wonder.” The grimoire he had her cast from is still open to the last spell she did. Lines and lines of Latin she had to fly through just to please him. He can have his stink tea right back. “ I don’t want or need it.”

    “ C’mon, love, don’t be obstinate. You can’t possibly be plotting my demise very well in your current state. And you’d faint before your stormed out the door. Now it’s your choice. If you don’t want to drink the tea, I could always just carry you out to my car and carry you inside your house, on up to your bedroom. I’ll even tuck you in, safe and sound.”

    “ I am **not** inviting you into my house. You can’t come in through the door, the chimney or a window.”

    “ Honestly Bonnie, climbing through bedroom windows is for petty criminals and Shakespearean leads. But you do bring up a good point.” He hums in thought. “ Probably best not to leave you alone. I suppose I’ll have to wake the neighbors. The old bird next door to you is a retired nurse, isn’t she? I’m sure she’s used to the late hours. I probably won’t even have to compel her to stay up and watch over you–”  


    She drank the damn tea.

    It tastes as bad as it smells, and _boy_ , is it hard to get down. Klaus doesn’t bother to hide his amusement at her disgusted exclamation of, “Oh **_God_**!” and the few gagging noises that follow.  


    “ It’s _awful_ , isn’t it? Imagine what it’d taste like if I _didn’t_ sweeten it first.”


	16. Rhythm

**016.**

    She’s beginning to understand why Klaus takes such joy in their interactions.

     It’s not because he can make her say ‘yes’. It’s because her first response is always ‘no’.

     She imagines there aren’t a lot of people left alive who do that.

     But she doesn’t fear death, or him, and he’s well aware of the fact. It only serves to amuse him further.   


     He always asks first. They both know she’s going to deny him. She doesn’t see why he doesn’t just lay all his cards on the table when he comes to her. He always reverts to hurting someone to get what he wants anyway. But no. He asks first. That’s the way this goes.  


    He demands. She refuses. He threatens. She caves. He alternates between flirting and menacing. She defies him as much as she’s able. Whatever spell is cast. She’s returned safely.   


    It never changes no matter what she does. He _likes_ it this way.

    Damon jokes that it’s practically foreplay to someone like Klaus.   


    She doesn’t laugh.


	17. Untouchable

**017.**

    She maintains that she doesn’t need Klaus’ or anyone else’s protection. That she’s quite capable of taking care of herself at all times. She never wastes an opportunity to prove it in fact.  


    But she can’t deny there’s this little charge of satisfaction that goes through her when a vampire stops–mid-rush mind you–at catching Klaus’ scent on her. He knows who that is and fears him appropriately. In turn, he fears her too. She doesn’t even have to use her powers to get rid of him. He can’t get out of Mystic Falls fast enough all on his own.


	18. Prayers

**018.**

    Quite a few of her ancestors on the other side refuse to answer her prayers anymore. Most of them are angry that she chooses to consort with a monster. Not even the likes of Stefan and Damon, which are bad enough, but Klaus; who’s in a class all by himself.

    And yet, there’s one or two that answer more frequently. Because they know what it’s like to love a monster. And be the only human thing that monster loves in kind. 


	19. Shame

**019.**

    She sort of envies him in a way. How he can just go after what he wants, damn the consequences, damn what everyone else thinks. And he’s likely to get it.   


    She has no such freedom. Her wants are tinged in guilt and shame. Wanting her father near when Elena and Caroline have lost theirs. Not wanting to be left alone on Mother’s Day when Tyler’s mother was killed by the very hybrid in question, and Elena, again, lost both her parents. Wanting a boyfriend–a true, loyal boyfriend–of her own when her friends have nothing but boy trouble on top of the supernatural trouble.

    Granted, the things she wants aren’t of the same magnitude as the things Klaus wants. But even when it comes to those little things, he makes sure to get his way there too. He doesn’t have to be the good friend. He doesn’t have to put his feelings aside. He doesn’t even have to be nice. 

    The cost of such freedom is high. And more than once, she catches herself wanting to pay it.


	20. Overflow

**020.**

It’s sort of an accident, really.

    She’s trying to concentrate, trying to draw power from the multiple candles near her to complete this rather complicated spell. And Klaus, who’s demanding it from her, will not stand still. He keeps moving, and pacing around like a caged tiger behind her and she _can’t_ get this **done** if he doesn’t _stop that_.   


    Without thinking, her hand shoots out to grab onto his wrist. She opens her mouth to tell him to be still, but a gasp comes out in place of words. Instead of channeling the fire, she channels **him**. Klaus is very old, and very powerful on his own. Neither one of them are prepared for the way that translates into magical energy.

    The amount of sheer power that courses from him and into her is like nothing she’s ever experienced. It’s greater than the hundred witches. It makes Expression into a child’s game. Is this what he feels like all the time? Is this how it feels to be the most powerful supernatural being on the planet?   


    When the light dies down, and the humming in her ears stops, she’s still in shock. There are scorch marks on the floor around the both of them. Not only is the barrier around his home gone, every tree on the property is either bent backwards or snapped in half _away_ from their epicenter.  


    She’s still got hold of Klaus, and she expects the hybrid to be angry, or at least irritated. But he seems just as stunned as she is. 

    “ Well then… was that good for you too, love?”

    Unfortunately, not stunned into **silence**. **  
**


	21. Touch

**021.**

    Klaus is a touchy person.

    Bonnie used to think it was just some domination tactic on his part. Showing that he could enter another person’s space, touch what he wants, take what he wants from them, alpha male type behavior.  **  
**

     In truth, it probably is. But he’s especially touchy when it comes to _her_.

     Doesn’t matter what he’s doing, or saying, or even who he’s saying it to. If they’re in the same room, he’s **going**  to touch her. 

     He doesn’t _grope_  her or anything. He might be a monster, but he’s a well-mannered monster. Always says his ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s before he snaps your neck. No, his touching is fairly innocuous. That almost makes it worse. 

    He likes toying with her hair, for one. Twining it about his fingers, brushing it behind her ear, even tugging on it when he especially feels like being a pest. She bats and swats and smacks his hand away every time, and every time he comes right back. 

    Then there’s his insistent hand on her lower back whenever they’re walking; whenever he’s guiding ~~forcing~~ her in one direction or another. It’s vexing because it’s hard to ignore. The Salvatores are slightly cooler to the touch. Where as, with his werewolf side no longer suppressed, Klaus is warmer. Her body remembers, near feels bereft when he moves away. She hates it.

     The longer she knows him, the bolder he gets.

      The hand on her lower back migrates to her waist, and then her hip. He’s gone past brushing hair behind her ear and dropping his arm. No, his touch lingers over her cheek and skirts over her jaw.

      He does it all so much that she actually (regrettably) gets used to it. She no longer moves away when he sits so close to her. She only bats his hand away a few times before just focusing on what she’s doing. She doesn’t realize exactly how many inches he’s turned into miles until Rebekah comes striding through the living room and observes them rather close on the couch.

    Klaus with his arm over the back, idly toying with her hair like she’s stopped him from doing a thousand times and he only continues to do a thousand and one times. That’s normal. That’s _become_ normal.

    What’s off is the way she’s nearly sunken into his side. A fact that Rebekah throws in her face. “ Well isn’t this cozy?”

    Have they really been that close all along? How did that happen? How did she not notice? Nevermind, she notices now and she’s quick to put some distance between herself and the hybrid. She doesn’t appreciate feeling like she’s been caught doing something bad.

    Of course, Klaus revels in it because he’s _always_ doing something bad. 


	22. Foolish

**022.**

“ Stupid girl,” she hears him say while she’s fading in and out of consciousness. She misses him savaging his wrist and only responds to the pressure of the wound against her mouth. “ Stupid, _stupid_ girl.”  


     “ S’th’thanks I get…” After she’s made it a point to rudely bleed out on their enemy’s floor and everything. See if she magically trades places to save his life again. So ungrateful.  


     “ Never again, do you understand?” Her body’s on the mend, yet he doesn’t release her. If anything he holds her tighter. “ You’ll not sacrifice yourself for the likes of me, Bonnie Bennett.”


	23. Daybreak

**023.**

That’s the thing about ‘morning afters’. There’s all this time for quiet, contemplation and guilt.

     She’s slept with Klaus.

      Klaus. K-l-a-u-s. _The_ hybrid. _The_ Original. _The_ enemy. _The_ killer of killers. Murderer of Elena and Jeremy’s aunt, Tyler’s mother, and so many others. **_KLAUS_.**

****She thinks all these things over and over and _over_ and **_over_** , and she’s still in bed with him.She can feel the heat of his body behind her. They’re spooning. They’re fucking spooning. And she is incredibly tempted to fall back asleep just like that. It’s not right. She shouldn’t feel this way. She should be tearing out of bed and fleeing from Mikaelson mansion; desperate to cleanse herself in a thousand showers. She should be begging for her friends’ forgiveness and dedicate all her time thereafter finding a way to kill Klaus.

    “ Don’t tell me you’ve taken up Stefan’s broody habits, love,” says the drowsy hybrid into her shoulder.

     “ This was a mistake.” She says it but she lacks conviction. She also fails to break his embrace or rise from the bed.

     “ We both know you don’t believe that.”

      She wants to. She wants to hate him. But it doesn’t come so easy anymore. He’s no longer just opposition. He’s no longer some big bad, lingering out in the world, tearing through people as they come for his own amusement and agenda. He’s saved her life more than once. He’s always praising her abilities. Always the one to tell her that she can do something, _anything_ , and never entertaining the idea that she can’t. He’s relentlessly pursued her. Through all the hell, fire and brimstone she’s thrown at him, he still comes. He chooses her over and over. Is it so wrong to be wanted that much? Is it so wrong to **want** to be wanted that much?   


       She’s had to come to terms with the fact that he has feelings. He has a family. He doesn’t necessarily handle them well (or at all) but he does have them. He experiences happiness that’s not necessarily due to the misfortune of others. He and his sister might argue and/or stab each other, but he never lets a door slam on her. He takes 45 minutes to pick _one color_ out at an art supply store. The longer she spends in his presence, the harder it is to remember he’s the bad guy. ~~Didn’t Damon used to be the bad guy too?~~  


The thought moves her enough to sit up. It’s a start. She’s sat up, pulled the sheets up to cover her chest and swung her legs over. All she has to do is get up. That’s it. Get up and run. Leave this behind. People have sex with other people all the time and it means nothing. This too could mean nothing. She owes it to everyone to end him.

****     Behind her the bed shifts, creaks with the hybrid’s movement. She resists turning her head to look at him. She’s just now building her strength, her resistance to him. They’re not touching, but her body remembers his. She remembers what it felt like to press her hands to his chest, his shoulders, bury her fingers into his hair. There’s this _ache_ between her legs, missing the way he fit between them. If she turns to face him now, she’ll crumble.

   Of all the reactions she expects him to have, laughter is not one of them.

    She breaks her own rule and looks at him. He’s just as attractive as he always is. Even more so in the morning light. It highlights everything; his muscles, his cheekbones, his hair, his _everything_ that will ruin her. **  
**

“ You are… truly amazing, Bonnie Bennett.”

   “ So you’ve said,” she says before she can stop herself.

    It just makes him grin. “ So I have. But this context is different, love. You’ve sat there thirty minutes now trying to make yourself feel guilty for _this_.” The back of his hand runs over every bump and ridge of her spine. A shiver follows him, and he can _smell_ her. “ But you can’t, can you? For once in her bloody life, Bonnie Bennett did something just for herself and **enjoyed** it. ~~You’re _well_ overdue for some fun if you ask me.~~ And look,” with that same hand, he gestures to the window. “ For all that fuss, the sun still rises after the fact. Now I’m not too keen on watching it finish rising. Personally, I’d like to go back to sleep. You should join me, love. It’s far too early to agonize over moral conflicts anyway. Even Stefan doesn’t bother until noon.”


	24. Study

**024.**

Bonnie is staring at him.   


    The spell she just cast had required werewolf venom, and so he grudgingly provided. He didn’t fancy biting down on a piece of cloth and holding it in his mouth for an extended period of time, but he was even less fond of the syringe extraction method. Some things are just plain unpleasant no matter how old or powerful you are.

     Spell’s done now. And she’s _still_ staring at him. More than staring. Squinting. Examining. Like she’s never seen him before. “ … what?”

     Instead of answering, she just tilts her head, and leans closer.

     Which prompts him to lean back; until he realizes just what he’s doing. He’s the personal space invader here, not the other way around. “ _What_ witch?”

     “ You have two.”

     What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean? Two of _what_?

     Two eyes? Two ears? He should, he was born with them. If he has two of anything else, then he might need to be concerned. He resists the temptation to touch his face and narrows his eyes at the witch. “ Two _what_?”

“ Fangs.”

    “ Most vampires do, love.”

    “ _No_ ,” she huffs at his patronizing. “ You’ve got two on each side.”

     So that’s what this is about. He’s known his fangs were different, but no one’s ever stopped and _stared_ at them before. He racks his brain for the last few instances where he’s bitten someone with intent to poison, and can recall none where Bonnie was present. This is her first time seeing him like this then. And so close. Hence her adorable curiosity. “ That I do,” he says and winks. “ The better to eat you with.”

And just like that, she’s back to glaring at him. “ You’re disgusting.”

Now she’s the uncomfortable one and all is right with the world. **  
**


	25. Garden

**025.**

She wants a garden like her mother’s garden. But no matter what she does, it never seems to work out right. Plants wither, or don’t grow at all. She’s connected to nature, but she apparently keeps losing the signal. It’s quite frustrating.

The very next day, her mother appears. A bit confused, but absolutely willing to help her ‘sort this garden business out’. 

    Sort it out. She only knows one person that talks like that.

    Even as she yells at him and rebuffs his attempts to placate her, she knows, in his own way, Klaus was trying to fix that which gave her so much trouble. 

    He doesn’t understand why she’s so upset that he compelled her mother to come help. He didn’t hurt her. He _could have_ –he certainly thought about it–but he didn’t. She wanted a garden like her mother’s and now her mother’s here to make it so. What’s all this shouting about then?  


    Though she doesn’t often approve of compulsion, it’s not the compulsion itself that’s the problem. It’s that Abby **had** to be compelled to come do this. She couldn’t just come on her own, call in, check up on her daughter, visit, mail a letter. Any number of things! **  
**

**No** , the only thing that moves her mother back into her life (however briefly she’ll be there) is an irrefutable command from a thousand year old hybrid. Not maternal instincts. Vampire ones.


	26. Color

**026.**

    As a painter, color is definitely something of importance to Klaus.   


     To the untrained and uncultured eye, it might look like he’s just making a mess with all his paints. Mixing warms and cools, complementary and tertiary, tints, tones and shades. Sometimes it bloody well _is_ messy, but there is no art without sacrifice.  


    In truth, mixing colors is an arduous process that isn’t always successful; even with all his years of experience. Sometimes blue and yellow don’t make green. They make fucking mud and there’s nothing you can do about it but toss the whole thing in the bin.

    He is never more frustrated than when he decides to paint Bonnie.

    He’s surrounded in study sketches. He’s already decided on how he’d like his composition. He’s made and primed his canvas. He’s got plenty of jars full of water (on the complete opposite side of his easel than where his mug of blood sits, let’s not make **_that_** mistake again, thank you) for washing his brushes. 

All he needs now is the right colors.

    For three hours, he’s been trying to match the color of the Bennett witch’s eyes. Nothing is good enough. This yellow has too much orange in it. This blue has too much yellow in it. This white is too bright. That shade is too dark. It’s enough to make you stab someone. (It actually ends up being several someones when he leaves his studio to take a break.)  


When Bonnie comes looking for him, she senses his bad mood immediately. “ What’s wrong?”

   “ What’s wrong?” He repeats, looking up from yet another failure. “ There are very few colors occurring in nature that are pure. There’s no such thing as a perfect color, any idiot with an _ounce_ of understanding of color theory could tell you that. But you, Bonnie Bennett, _you_ happen to have perfect eyes! That’s what’s bloody wrong! **Perfectly! _Green_! Eyes!”**

And then he storms off. Leaving a very confused Bennett witch; unsure if she should be very flattered or very offended. **  
**


	27. Marzipan

**027.**

Klaus is a terrible patient.

    She’d say he deserves it for upsetting whichever witchy spirits he’s offended this time, but he really does look miserable. Apparently, he predates the flu, and as he was immortal at the time of the outbreaks, he never experienced it himself. Now he’s got a supernatural version of it wreaking havoc with his healing.

    And true to form, he wreaks havoc on everything else because of it.

    He’s the least nasty to her. (read: least nasty, not necessarily _nice_.) And as such, dealing with the near bedridden hybrid has become solely her duty.   


“ Take some of this.” She figures since his illness mimics the flu, flu medicine might lessen his symptoms. “ See if it makes you feel better.”

   “ I will not,” he rasps while tossing the bottle of green liquid to the other end of his bed. That’s as far as he can manage and even _that_ was exhausting. He’d smother himself if he could.“ Where’s Elijah? Why isn’t he back yet?”

    “ I’m sure he’s going as fast as he can.” She’s sure he’s doing the exact opposite, actually. _Serves him right for making trouble where he shouldn’t,_ ****she could just hear him say. ****Nevertheless, the eldest Original _is_ coming to lend his suffering brother his blood and the antibodies therein.“ The medicine might help you sleep until he gets here.”

     He does his best to appear properly offended. “ I do not now, nor will I **ever** need _human_ medicine.”

“ Oh, stop pouting.” You’d think with his hearing compromised and a near complete inability to sleep, he’d be less snobbish about _anything_ that could make it better. It’s not like he has to drink the whole bottle. The measuring cup isn’t even all that big, she bets he won’t even taste it.   


     “ How **_dare_ ** you!” He’s trying to raise his voice, but it only makes him cough more. “ I am a thousand year old, unkillable, _unbreakable_ hybrid–the _O R I G I N A L_ **hybrid** , thank you–and you _**dare**_ compare me to that of a small chil– _Oomf!_ ”

     She’s sure he had more to say (he always does) but she took the opportunity to shove a spoonful of flu medicine in his mouth anyway. Gosh, but she’s never seen him look so ~~comically~~ betrayed! Or repulsed. If he weren’t so well mannered, she imagines he’d probably spit it right back out **.** Well, it’s his own fault, in her opinion. If he doesn’t want that kind of thing to happen, he oughta keep his mouth shut.

“ I’ve slaughtered _whole villages_ for less.”

She doesn’t doubt it. “ It can’t taste worse than blood.”

     “ It doesn’t bloody taste like marzipan!”

      “ Maybe you should keep that in mind the next time you feel the urge to antagonize dead witch spirits.” It’s in his system at least. He’ll stay pissed, of course and she’ll have to hear about it. But he’ll finally get some sleep.  **  
**

He acts like he doesn’t want her near him. She ignores him and climbs up into his bed anyway because honestly, dealing with him like this is just plain **tiring**. Sooner rather than later she’ll find herself wrapped up in once-powerful arms and they’ll both rest. Until it’s time for his second dosage anyway. **  
**


	28. Groceries

**028.**

“ Bonnie, you’re being completely ridiculous.”

     His mistake was telling her that she _couldn’t_ do something. He hadn’t even meant it as a dig. Hell, he was trying to be chivalrous. _Now_ she has something to prove.  


     “ _You’re_ completely ridiculous.” She’ll show him who can’t carry the heavy bags. She’ll carry **all** the bags into the house by herself. At the same time. And she won’t spill a thing.  


      “ If you insist on doing it all yourself, love, wouldn’t it be easier to just make two trips?”

      The Bennett witch scowls at the very notion. As if he has offended her honor deeply by making such a suggestion. “ **Never** ,” she says while hitching the bags up and striding purposefully towards the front door. “ Now come open this door before I lose feeling in my fingers.”


	29. Museum

**029.**

It was her fault really for picking a museum that had a Viking exhibit in it.   


    “ _That’s_ mine. _That’s_ mine. _That’s_ mine. _That_ even has my name on it! _All_ of this is mine!”

    Of course, she has no way of knowing if the artifacts he’s claiming are actually his original possessions, or if that’s just the excuse he’s using because he wants to take them. “ We are not stealing from the museum, Klaus.”

    “ So who’s stealing?” He is. Or he’s at least planning on it; if his eyeing of the display case is anything to go by. “ They were mine first, the museum stole from _me_! **I** should be upset!”

    He _would_ see it that way. “ Upset about _what_? You have lived centuries without these things, and _now_ you have to have them?”

    “ This is why you’re perfect for me, Bonnie. You understand.”   


    She understands she has to erect a barrier around the damn thing to keep him out of it. “ When was the last time you even used a ‘gold and ivory _drinking horn’_?”

    “ 700, 800 years ago, maybe, what difference does it make?” Of course that’s not enough for him to leave well enough alone. He’s gotten it in his head to liberate his belongings from their glass imprisonment now. She’s never bringing him to a museum again.   


    “ The difference is, you don’t need it.” And she won’t let him have it, so there.  


     “ I _do_ need it,” he stresses while searching for the end of her barrier.  


    “ You would **never** use it! I watched you drink your breakfast out of a champagne glass this morning!”

     “ But I _might_ , love! And if I do, I’d like to have it nearby, so if you would be _so_ kind.”

    The irony of the situation is that a nearby plaque defines what a ‘viking hoard’ is. And that’s exactly what’s in front of her, a viking _hoarding_. 


	30. Accent

**030.**

The first time she hears his American accent, she stares at him like he’s grown a second head. “ What was _that_?”

    “ What?” He continues in the same voice. “ This is America. You speak American here.”

    “ Oh my God.” The difference is so striking. Even if he’s standing in front of her speaking, she can scarcely believe that sound is coming from him. His voice is so light. So… innocuous and unassuming. Non-threatening. Klaus actually sounds non-threatening. “ How long has that been a thing?”

    “ As long as there have been Americans to imitate, darlin’.” Clearly, some habits die hard no matter what accent he’s pulling. “ It’s a proven fact, you know. Humans more readily associate with those similar to them. You’d be surprised how quickly people share all sorts of information when you trade out ‘telly’ for ‘TV’ and ‘pint’ for ‘beer’.”


End file.
